


Unattainable

by tragakes (lejf)



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: BY AMON, M/M, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:33:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12012816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lejf/pseuds/tragakes
Summary: He sees someone beautiful through the slanted light and sheen of a café window.--aka. Kaneki mistakenly thinks Amon is a ghoul wanting food when, really, all he wants is dick. It's meat alright.





	Unattainable

**Author's Note:**

> Set before they meet for the first time.

The streets are just opening as Amon jogs, shutters unfurling like butterfly wings in colour sprays of glass, food, flowers, shoes, jewellery, men and women in suits, dresses, smiles. His quinque in a messenger bag swings in time. Despite the way the world blooms so invitingly in the daylight, its underbelly teems with ghouls. He can never be without a form of retaliation.

His running shoes. Pavement. Sweat. The sun overhead. A poster flickers by with the shard of some girl’s face in grey, the letters “ISSING” in deep bold black. “Widow distraught”. Amon runs because he must keep fit, and he runs to make sure that he can still see the roads as a civilian. Amon runs after an ever-distant goal to change the world.

His route ends near an intersection, where he slows to a walk and wipes back his sweat. His eyes are drawn upwards in his thoughts. The world. It necessitates change. In the moment that he looks up, however, a movement catches his eye: a figure in a café window drawing the blinds with deft hands, one eye covered with a patch. The boy there stops once the blinds have been drawn as if he can sense a watcher, and he looks out and meets Amon’s gaze. He waves, and smiles.

Amon works through this struggle every morning. He raises a slow hand back. Never once has he stepped foot into the café.

Nothing could happen. This is unattainable. Amon is twenty six. That boy there is eighteen at best.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. He’ll change his route after this. He curses his weakness as he heads inside, pushing open the door to hear the waiters and waitresses call good morning from behind the counter. Those fall on deaf ears, however, as Amon takes a seat and only has eyes for the one boy he came here for.

The inside of the café is filled with light and the heady scent of coffee. Or maybe that’s just Amon, heady at being close to his object of— reverence? Deification? Affection? Most days he isn’t sure, but most days thinking about this boy is limited to this small window of running. Amon is organised. His mind does not wander on his tasks, not at work.

God forbid he indulge once. He shouldn’t ever do this again.

“May I take your order?” The boy is in front of him. So close. Amon thinks his heart is beating as quickly as it did in a scuffle last night, where a ghoul had nearly taken off his foot. It should be inappropriate to make these comparisons, but some days when he could be dead the next, he can’t help it.

Amon hasn’t even looked at the menu. He glances at it for formalities’ sake, then looks back at the boy, whose practised veneer – the one that all servers inevitably grow — falls off quickly with an expression of genuine curiosity.

Those eyes. Amon could never resist. He doesn't even need to see the other.

“I think,” he says as calmly as he can, fighting the urge to burn shamelessly with a blush, “I’ve an appetite for something different.”

The boy’s eye widens in understanding, and for a moment Amon thinks he’s going to be turned down and regrets everything, imagining his coworkers hooting if they ever found out, but then the boy says, “Come with me.”

His nametag reads “Ken Kaneki”. Amon follows him, taking his bag, while Kaneki leads him out of the main dining area through a set of Staff Only doors, towards a stairwell leading downwards. The boy turns to say something, but Amon has already moved by then. Kaneki’s shoulders hit the wall. His lips taste like coffee — which Amon would find amusing if he wasn’t burning up inside, his hands roaming Kaneki’s waist, kissing that beautiful boy as if he’d been starved his whole life.

The boy beneath him is surprisingly tense, but after a moment his lips part and Amon is invited into the full wetness of his mouth, breathing in each other’s air and warmth. He’s lost in this world, a pair of hands reaching up around his neck and that lithe body pressed fully to his, shifting back and forth and grinding against their growing heat. He just wants to get closer, running his hands through Kaneki’s hair and tilting their heads, just trying to get deeper.

He draws back to say, “Let me,” and sinks to his knees. The look on Kaneki — eye blown wide, flushed, hair mussed, lips parted, breathing hard — Amon reminds himself to remember forever. He feels surprisingly shameless as he draws Kaneki out, glancing upwards again. As he does, the cock in his hand twitches and Kaneki grows impossibly redder, and Amon can’t resist a smile that spreads more like a smirk. He lets it rest on his closed lips, drooling precome that he laps up with quick sweeps of his tongue. Kaneki has covered his own mouth with a hand to suppress his noises.

He must look terribly wanton, his own hair in disarray, precome smeared all over his lips, tongue glistening and pink, but he doesn’t regret a thing. “Come on,” he breathes, never taking his eyes off Kaneki’s. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

His mouth is hot and wet as he takes Kaneki down. By his knees, he feels Kaneki’s toes curl through his shoes, and hears a muffled cry and short, desperate gasps above him. It spurs Amon on further, hand coming up to brace himself against the wall as he turns his head and flattens his tongue against Kaneki’s cock. Occasionally embarrassingly loud sounds escape him, slurping and sounds of his suction. Rank 1 Ghoul investigator on his knees, giving a blowjob in a dark stairwell. Kaneki’s hips jerk forwards too, riding Amon’s mouth, sliding deep, close to the back of his throat. Amon fumbles for his own erection, sliding a hand into his shorts and rubbing himself.

A hand suddenly intertwines with his, the one against the wall, and Kaneki comes without warning. Amon can feel him try to pull out at the last moment, but he grabs Kaneki’s hip with their held hand and holds him there, thick and bitter wetness flooding his mouth. It tastes awful, but that fades in light of the twitches Amon can feel in Kaneki’s body and that lidded blissed look that Kaneki gives him when Amon sits back. Kaneki hauls Amon upright, undoubtably to kiss him, and his own hand joins Amon’s in his shorts where it’s hot and damp and he can hear his heartbeat thudding through his veins.

But a plate shatters behind them. Then Kaneki has shoved him down and the wall explodes beside them when another café worker — a woman, with dark blue hair — slices it open. “You,” she growls through gritted teeth, eyes with kakugan fixed on Amon. “Damn _dove_ —! You want his _body_ , too?!“

“Touka! It's not like that!” Kaneki yells, and then he’s grabbed the angered–  _ghoul_  to restrain her. She’s a ghoul. Amon is half-way to his quinque that’d never left his side when Kaneki shouts, “Please, _run_!”

If Amon killed her, Kaneki would turn on him too. He loses his breath at the thought. Rises to his feet. Stumbles backwards. He duty is to dispose of ghouls, but he can’t fight this battle. He  _can't_. Forces are grappling within him. One is justice, and the other is his heart thudding steadily in his chest.

“Just go!” The ghoul, Touka, is tearing at Kaneki’s arms that are holding her. Kaneki looks desperate, and that's what seals his decision.

Amon escapes into the light, but he’s sure that he left some part of himself behind.

 

  
When he arrives at the office he is immaculate as ever, tie neat, suit pressed, hair untouched. His mind can’t stop thinking. It goes around and around in circles, chasing its own tail.

“You look troubled,” Mado comments when he passes by. “Did something happen?”

“No,” Amon says, with just the perfect infliction to pass off the lie. He swallows. He looks away, out the window, at the sky. Kaneki may be a ghoul, but Amon would sooner die than betray him. “That’s the troubling thing. Nothing even remotely interesting happened.”

And so nothing did. 

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for troubled ending. i just thought this place needed more smut lol. i mean, amon got totally fuckin' blue balled, and kaneki thought amon was a ghoul asking for food... embarrassing, those two,,,


End file.
